


just be you (locked up in your bedroom)

by sleepyMoritz (Catherss)



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Anne Lister's Butch Energy, F/F, First Kiss, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 08:53:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18937606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catherss/pseuds/sleepyMoritz
Summary: "Who's that?" Ann asked the gaggle of teenage girls. They shared a conspiratorial glance, then burst into laughter."That's Jack," her new roommate said, her brown eyes flitting to Ann's before her mouth tugged into a grin. "Jack Lister."





	just be you (locked up in your bedroom)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of working on an essay due in 11 hours. Nice!
> 
> Unbeta'd. Honestly I'm not even entirely sure when this is set- just roll with it. Title from Beauty Queen by Zuzu.

"Who's that?" Ann asked the gaggle of teenage girls. They shared a conspiratorial glance, then burst into laughter.

"That's Jack," her new roommate said, her brown eyes flitting to Ann's before her mouth tugged into a grin. "Jack Lister."

"Jack?" she repeated, looking back over to the girl sat in the corner of the lunch hall, a book on her lap and eating alone. Jack - if that was her name - froze, suddenly, and Ann was convinced for a moment that she must've heard what she'd heard what her roommate had said, though it was surely impossible. Then, she slammed the book shut and stood, grabbing her plate in a smooth motion and striding trenchantly across the hall, weaving easily in between the other girls. There was something incredible about her motion, a stride that seemed so unbelievably confident; as though she was the authority in the room, not Mr. Ashton, who surveyed the room with his eagle-eyes.

Jack put her plate at the kitchen hatch and tucked the book under her arm, a heavy looking hardback she carried effortlessly though it was made of foam. Then, she glanced up, and met eyes with Ann.

And then Jack smiled, widely, and Ann's breath was stolen.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As it turned out, Ann did share a lesson with Jack; English Literature. She didn't realise until halfway into the class, though, not until the teacher asked a question, and clear voice projected itself across the room.

"Dreams can often reveal about a character's subconscious. I think Lockwood's dream... well, it shows that when he dreams of Cathy, that he too is trapped in an in-between." Her glance again turned to Ann as she continued, a smile playing on her lips, "Unable to feel right in himself."

Ann whipped back round and swallowed, hard, feeling at once horribly transparent and horribly seen.

 

 

* * *

 

 

This wasn't uncommon, but it still felt like the world was ending, every single time.

Ann was leaning against the door to the toilet, wanting to slide down to the floor but not trusting it to be clean as her chest went tight and the world spun and her breaths came hard to her body. She wanted to have someone here with her to weather it, but who could she ask? The giggling girls in her dorm? A teacher? The House Mistress?

No - better not make a fool of herself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The grounds of the school were fairly large and sprawling, and though summer was fast ending as autumn was ushered in, the evenings were still long enough that after classes and extracurriculars, she could take her watercolours down to the beck at the bottom end to read or paint.

She passed the groundskeeper man she saw every so often on her way down, and he nodded at her with a, "'Ow do?"

"Hello," she replied.

"Y'alreet?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Aye. Where you off to this time a day?"

"Just the stream," Ann said, holding her watercolour set close to her uniform skirt.

"Oh, there's already a girl down there - just, if you were hoping for, y'know, a quieter time by yourself. She's," he said somewhat conspiritally. "A bit of a loud one, her."

Ann considered turning back at that point, but she didn't want to go back to her room, and there wasn't anywhere really picturesque like the beck, asides from the main school building itself. "That's fine," she said, hoping that the other girl, whoever it was, wouldn't make conversation.

The man shrugged and carried on his way. Once she got to the bank, the grass became much longer, her footsteps creating light dints, and then she was at the beck, her footsteps crunching on the rocky shore.

Ann turned, and there was Jack, her eyes already on Ann, a grape halfway to her mouth, book in her other hand.

Somewhat ridiculously, Ann's first thought was this: Where did she even get that from? They didn't _sell_ grapes in the tuck shop.

Jack's mouth split into a wide grin, and Ann wondered if there ever was a time that girl stopped smiling.

"Hello," Jack said, then bit down on the grape.

Ann's breath was caught in her throat, and she wasn't sure why. Anxiety spooled threads around her heart again and squeezed it tight, but she managed to choke up, "Hi."

There was an excruciatingly long pause, and then Jack said, "So have you done the English Lit homework?"

"N-- no," Ann said, then coughed into the back of her hand and said, "I haven't even started it."

Jack laughed, surprisingly. "Yes, me neither. Much more interesting things to do," she carried on, her voice just dipping into innuendo, "in my opinion."

 

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn't until Ann met Jack in the library to work on the Wuthering Heights work that she realised Jack wasn't her name at all, but in fact, they shared a moniker.

"Oh," Ann said, holding Anne's exercise book in front of her. "I thought your name was--" She swallowed awkwardly.

Anne took it gracefully. "Jack? I know. Most people call me that."

"... Why?" It felt rude to ask, but she was burning with curiosity about this girl. And then Ann thought that it wasn't really right to think of her as a girl at all. She had a certain energy about her that made Ann think, _woman, she's a woman_ , so much more grown up and mature than she was. But _woman_ wasn't right either. Anne was something else entirely. How someone could look so masculine and boyish in a skirt and long hair in a bun she'd never know, but if Ann believed in souls, she knew Anne had one that wasn't quite female.

Anne tilted her head, her dark eyes coming to Ann's with a certain playfulness. "Because the Jack is under the Queen," she said, "in the sense of playing cards - obviously."

Ann's throat felt dry. "Obviously," she agreed.

"Though the Queen is more likely to be below me," Anne muttered on primly, not glancing at Ann in the process in way that felt too purposeful to be by accident. "So, what were your thoughts on that Cathy nightmare?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

"You should be careful about Jack," her roommate said, on her belly as she painted her nails.

Ann looked up from her sketchbook. "Why?"

Her roommate grinned toothily, the excitement of gossip making her eyes glimmer. "Well, they say she's... well, _been around_ , with the girls."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ann woke realising that she was rutting with some duvet twisted hard between her thighs.

She sucked in a sharp breath and wondered if she could get away with-- doing that-- while her roommate slept.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"You can call me Jack, you know," Anne said.

"I thought you said you didn't like it." It seemed like a mean nickname to Ann, one that she knew she'd feel deeply, deeply uncomfortable with.  _Jack_ as in manly. It felt almost like bullying herself to call Anne that.

"I don't mind. And I don't mind it when you do it."

Ann broke into a wide smile, one Anne-- Jack-- easily matched, showing off white, straight, teeth. Then the smile slowly dropped, and Ann realised she was still looking at her lips, which had come together then parted gently.

Her eyes snapped away, and she heard Anne exhale a little laugh.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The term wore into autumn and Ann spent most of her time with Anne, reading, painting, talking. She wasn't sure what Anne saw in her, because Anne was so endlessly fascinating; despite only being seventeen, she'd travelled abroad by herself, so it seemed her aunt and uncle couldn't control her.

"I just tell them I'm going to board during the holidays," she said, her legs splayed confidently. "Or that I'm staying with school friends. They don't care much. And they never ask for ID in Europe."

"You've bought alcohol before?"

"Oh, yeah. Cigarettes, cigars, all sorts of things."

"I've never even had much more than my dad's beer," Ann confessed, flushing and feeling horribly young. She wondered to herself too what else Anne might've tried, Jack as she was, and then she got a flash of skin and mouths and bras on the floor. Her mouth carried on while her brain was elsewhere. "And it was disgusting."

"You should try roséwine. It's cheaper than other wines, because men don't like it. Their loss, I think."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ann heard a soft trotting behind her, and she turned to see one of the black horses approaching her, Anne straddling it's wide torso and grinning.

"You're not allowed to take the horses out of the paddock without a teacher," Ann blurted out, then crossed her sketchbook over her chest as she felt horribly defensive for being such a stick-in-the-mud.

"They won't miss her for long," Anne responded with a cheeky grin, rounding the beautiful beast with easy confidence. She slid off the saddle, and Ann realised it was the first time she'd seen her in trousers - pupils had to be in their uniform until after dinner, at which point Anne said she generally spent the time reading in her room or roaming the grounds. The jodhpurs clung to her strong legs, her gait easy as she swaggered the rest of the way up to Ann, who felt frozen to the spot. She wasn't wearing a helmet. "Busy this weekend?"

"N-- no?"

"Good, very good." Anne glanced around playfully, then leaned in, so close Ann could smell her shampoo and the musk of horse and sweat. "I got us some rosé."

"Anne!" she hissed. "How--?"

"I have my ways." She leaned out again with a smile, hopeful and sweet. "My roommate goes home at the weekend, so, if you'll join me...?"

"Yes," she said immediately, warm with embarrassment and something else. "Yes. Yes."

Then, behind them, was a shout: "Hey! You with t' 'orse!"

"My cue to go," Anne said, walking backwards for a moment before pushing herself up onto the saddle. Most of the other girls needed a block or a helping hand to get up onto a horse, but Anne was tall and lithe, managing it easily. "I'll see you after Games on Saturday, then?"

Ann nodded frantically.

Anne gave one last grin and urged the horse on, her hips shifting with the motion. "Looking forward to it!"

Then, she sped off in a gallop across the perfectly manicured lawns of the playing field.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"My family own land up in Yorkshire," Anne said, half under her bed as she pulled out the bottle from it's hiding hole. "Around Halifax. Very historical and prestigious."

"Mine too, actually," Ann said.

"Yes, I thought I heard a little bit of the North in your accent," Anne said, her mouth split into a triumphant smile as she emerged with two bottles of rose wine, then she shrugged and continued, "I didn't really pick one up. I'm glad I didn't. Horrible accent, Yorkshire."

"It's not that bad," Ann said, laughing. "At least it isn't Brummy."

Anne laughed and gestured the bottle to Ann. "Very true." Anne opened the bottle, and took a sip, her face still and dark eyes on Ann. Ann was caught in it for a long moment, until she broke the gaze, and held out the bottle.

Ann took it and gave it a tentative smell, then took a sip. She grimaced and spluttered. "It's very alcoholic."

"It's wine," Anne said, laughing. "Of course it's alcoholic."

 

 

* * *

 

 

The bottle was almost empty, and Ann felt light and heavy, flushed in the company of Anne, who was explaining animatedly-- something about the Brontës, she wasn't sure, but Ann was entranced anyway.

Then Anne stopped expectantly, and Ann surfaced, slumped against the wall the bed was up flush against. "You weren't listening at all, were you?" It was a playful jab, not an offended one.

"What! No-- yes! Of course I was, yes."

Anne tilted her head, and then she realised just how close together they were, and her stomach felt like it wasn't attached to her body anymore but down on the floor below, her head up in the sky, body stretched between something impossible and something delightful.

"I don't mind," Anne said lowly, her eyes flickering down to Ann's mouth. Then, they closed slightly, and she leaned in, and it happened so slowly and so quickly, but then--

Their mouths pressed together, then Anne pulled back slightly just to change the angle and go in again. Kissing was so gentle and soft, and Ann felt just the barest scrape of teeth against her bottom lip. It was like fire was dripping down her insides, a kiss that was a million opening doors and a sudden sure knowledge that nothing would ever be the same.

Ann felt herself collapse into it, and Anne chuckled before pushing them back into something better.

Oh, God, it was _good_.

Then Anne pushed her down so she was laying on the bed and then rose up properly, pulling at the buttons of her high-collared shirt as she was straddled over Ann's leg, and something in the motion was Jack, Jack, _Jack_.

But then she stopped, and gently ran her hand down Ann's face. "You're scared."

"No." It was a lie. She was terrified of this - not of her, but of this.

"It's alright," Anne-- _Jack_ said, her expression open and honest as she came back down, elbow by Ann's head and other hand running fingers over her hot skin. "You don't ever have to be scared. Does it feel right?"

Ann nodded, breathless.

"Then you'll feel better very soon."

 _What a promise_ , Ann thought.

Jack kissed her again, and then lay down, manoeuvring them so Ann was resting on her chest that was slowly lowering in a long, deep sigh.

It was like that, on the chest of this incredible person, she felt into a comfortable, tipsy sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on tumblr at sleepymoritz! Comments etc very welcome. I might do more of this, but I have another fic I need to finish up first.
> 
> I also worked on a short little playlist for Gentleman Jack, [so check it out if ya fancy](https://open.spotify.com/user/g58l9hq5fjl3a1xly5qz6ew27/playlist/7GO29cMvsxRkWlUb7MZ6me?si=jjF1mvvaQFOxV0alGR_J-w). I might also add more songs to this when I get the chance!


End file.
